


Ink

by fiercy, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Chris Hemsworth and Henry Cavill [28]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), Superman RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 20:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6535915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiercy/pseuds/fiercy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Chris Hemsworth/Henry Cavill storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG <a href="http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read">Citadel</a>. If you're interested in joining, please contact the mods as listed <a href="http://citadel-info.dreamwidth.org/995.html#cutid1">here</a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Ink

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Chris Hemsworth/Henry Cavill storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read). If you're interested in joining, please contact the mods as listed [here](http://citadel-info.dreamwidth.org/995.html#cutid1).

The buzz of an ink gun drifts out from behind the door of the on-site artist's office door, and Henry pauses for a moment, turning to drop his forehead against Chris's chest. "Will you take me down a little before we go in?" he asks quietly. "Whisper to me while thousands of needle sticks are coloring my skin for you?"

Chris buries a hand in Henry's hair, tugging his head back. "I'll be there, with you," he says just as quietly. "Watching you forever marked as mine." His mouth lowered to Henry's throat, teeth grazing his skin, teasing, before he bites.

Gasping softly, Henry wraps his arms around Chris and hangs on, his desire to be overwhelmed having nothing at all to do with trepidation and everything to do with Chris. Head dropped back, fingers clenched around those impossibly muscled arms, his soft sound of supplication washes over both of them in the stillness of the hallway.

Chris bites harder, sucking at the bruise, at the mark he's making, the blood rising to the fore, pinpricking the surface. His cock throbbing roughly in response. _Mine._

The pounding of his blood, in his cock, and in the bruise he can feel coming up on his skin, has Henry slipping down. He lets his weight drop back against the wall right behind him, chin tilted up in surrender, arms lifting over his head, spread out like a sacrifice.

Chris finally, reluctantly, draws back. He kisses Henry, sucking on his lower lip, biting there too, breaking the skin this time, the tinge of copper pinging his tongue.

There's a hiss and a gasp, and a moment later Henry realizes it came from him. He whimpers softly, already floating, and lifts hooded, heavy eyes to Chris. "Sir."

Chris smiles, tongue flicking out once more to lick the blood from Henry's mouth. "Ready to do this, boy?"

"Yes, Sir," Henry murmurs, following Chris's tongue with his own. "Please."

Chris takes Henry's hand and leads him through the door. There's a young woman sitting at the front desk with a sleek purple bob and full sleeves of tattoos - ivy and flowers and what he thinks are creatures of some sort peeking out from behind all that stuff. She's sort of like a human where's Waldo and he suddenly realizes he's staring. "Sorry. I'm Chris. I called earlier about having my boy Henry inked."

She nods and gives them a wide, easy smile, silently cursing Citadel's nondisclosure agreement. "I'm Jane. Is this his first time?"

Henry gives her a smile, then tilts his head, eyes cutting to Chris and leaving it to him to answer. He likes that. A lot. Not for the first time since they began to make their way to the artist's office does his cock twitch.

Chris nods. "He's a blank canvas," he says with a grin, giving Henry's hand a squeeze. "But I already... drew on him. We just want to get it made permanent."

That's so cute. Jane resists the urge to laugh and just smiles at them instead. "Can I see?"

Henry glances at Chris both for permission, and just to connect. At his nod, he unties his loose drawstring lounging pants and drops them just enough to show the design wrapped partially around the base of his cock. He can't help but blush.

Oh wow. Jane blinks. "I can do that," she says quickly, not wanting them to mistake her... awe for reticence. Or judgement. "But before I do, I just want to make sure you both realize how much it'll hurt. Tattoos - the closer they are to the bone, the more it hurts, and that, that's going to hurt a lot."

Chris grins and smiles at Henry. "He knows. That's actually kind of the idea. Hurting for me."

Henry's blush deepens when his cock responds to that, curling up a little in the way. He takes a deep breath and pulls his pants back up, giving her an apologetic smile.

"Okay then. Do you guys have any questions for me?" Jane asks, gesturing for them to follow her into one of the back rooms.

Chris nods, hand on the small of Henry's back. "How long is the healing time?"

"The same as any tattoo," Jane says, closing the door behind them. "Which depends on your genes and your hygiene. Take good care of it, keep it clean, no sexual activity unless you can manage without touching it," she adds, blushing just a little at the images of the two men that suddenly appear in her head. "It should be good in a couple of weeks. And of course the more you can air it out..."

Henry considers that, tilting his head. "Huh. The suit is going to make that airing it out thing kind of difficult. How important is that?"

"Not as important as keeping it clean," Jane says, moving a couple of trays around. "And if you can air it out for an hour or two in the evening, or sleep naked or whatever, that'll be fine. It's just one of those things that speeds up the healing time."

"Got it." He glances at Chris and grins. "Guess the sex will be all about you tomorrow, Sir."

"Isn't it always?" Chris grins back, clearly teasing.

Jane smiles to herself and waits for the two men to finish with their goo-goo eyes before she asks, "Chair or table? We can do this with you sitting up or lying down. I'll have to hold your penis either way."

Hold his...? Chris blinks but he guesses that makes sense. "Do you have a preference?" he asks Henry.

Licking his lips, Henry nudges Chris, again just for the contact. "Um. Do we have a half and half option?" he says with a chuckle.

"I can raise the head on the table if you want," Jane offers, demonstrating.

"Yeah, that's perfect, thank you ma'am," Henry says quietly but clearly. He glances at Chris, grinning. "You going to watch?"

"Are you kidding?" Chris grins. "I wouldn't miss this for the world."

"Then you can stand beside him or sit here," Jane says, pulling up a chair on the other side of the table, dropping her gaze a little as she adds, to Chris, "I need him naked, please, from the waist down, shirt up, and I'll give him a sheet to cover himself with." She knows better than to give someone else's boy or girl anything resembling an order.

Chris nods at Henry. "Go ahead."

"Yes, Sir." Henry gives a smile and a wink to Jane, just to break the tension a bit and slips out of his pants. After years with dressers and wardrobe techs, getting naked for something practical isn't really that big a deal.

Henry settled on the exam table and Jane hands him a sheet, adjusting it as needed so she's got a good view of his cock. That very, very nice cock. And god, she can't help wondering what Thor over there is packing and what these two look like when they're together. Wonders if she should hang around the bar a little later this evening. She might get lucky. "I'm going to retrace over this first and then we'll sanitize it," she says, pulling Henry's cock taut. "I don't want the sharpie ink getting into the tattoo." She glances at Chris. "Next time, put the design on a piece of paper and _I'll_ position it for you."

"Oops," Henry murmurs, grinning at Chris. "That was my idea."

"You're not the first one," Jane assures him, watching the two of them grinning like fools at each other. "Have you been together long?" she asks, tracing the C and then cleaning the skin with a wipe. "If I'm not prying."

Henry licks his lips, his thoughts starting to haze. "Not long enough," he murmurs, taking Chris's hand. "Forever and no time at all," he says nonsensically. "Never enough time together."

Chris raises Henry's hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to his knuckles. "We've been together for a while but work's kept us from spending any serious time together."

Jane nods. "That sucks. It beats not working or not being successful, but being separated from the one you love? It's never easy," she says softly, turning to pick up her tattoo gun. "Are we ready?"

Swallowing hard, Henry nods and squeezes Chris's hand. "Ready," he murmurs, his cock giving a slight lift at the thought of the pain.

"Just remember I need that hand," Chris teases as Jane starts, his eyes locked on Henry's face.

Henry grins, his smile still in place but his eyes widening as the gun touches his skin the first time. He grunts hard with the effort not to flinch, manages to keep still, but his grip tightens painfully on Chris's hand.

Chris hisses in a breath, gritting his teeth a little, but he knows he'd be doing the same thing if someone was taking a needle to his cock. "Bad?"

Henry's quickly adjusting, used to breathing through pain, to letting it spread out, mellow into something else; he nods at Chris but eases his grip as endorphins start to flow. "Little," he murmurs, licking his lips, the white noise of the buzzing ink gun lending itself to the process of falling.

"You're doing really well," Jane says, working on the outline of the letter.

"What she said," Chris murmurs, smiling. He leans over and kisses Henry, softly, on the forehead. "I'll have to come up with some sort of reward."

"I like the sound of that," Henry murmurs, a grunting breath inhaled sharply at the bite of the needle over bone. "Talk to me?"

"Tell me about your dream house," Chris says, giving Henry's fingers a squeeze. "For when we start looking. How many bedrooms, bathrooms, what do you want in a kitchen?"

 _For when..._ Huh. Jane keeps her eyes on her work but wow. They really _are_ serious. Which the cock tattoo might have told her too, but you'd be surprised.

Henry chuckles weakly, giving Chris's hand a squeeze, his eyes closing briefly at a spear of pain. He takes a deep breath, the haze of the rush starting to take over. "Not the kind of talk I had in mind," he murmurs, licking his lips, glancing from Chris's eyes to his mouth and back again.

"You had something dirtier in mind?" Chris asks with a grin. "Something more along the lines of what your reward might be?"

"Yes, Sir," Henry says with a grin. "Something that will take me deeper. Claim me for you while I'm being marked."

"That's a tall order," Chris teases, gaze flickering to Jane. But he guesses she's heard it all working for Citadel. "How about, when you're feeling better, I'll take you to the club, strip you naked, attach a leash to your collar and parade you in front of everyone, making sure they see your tattoo, that they know you're _mine_..." his voice soft, growing huskier with lust, with the imagining of it.

Henry actually has to work to keep himself still. He wants to shiver, wants to turn toward Chris. He settles for words. "Please, Sir. Please show them all that I belong to you," he murmurs, searching Chris's face.

"I'll claim you in front of them," Chris responds. "Fuck you hard and deep, my fist wrapped around your cock. _My_ cock."

Henry swallows, closing his eyes, putting himself there, just like he had been the other night. "Thank you, Sir."

"The outline's done and I'm just coloring it in now," Jane tells them, reluctant to interrupt but she always likes to keep her clients apprised of where they are in the process especially on work like this.

"Thanks." Chris nods, taking a look. "You okay?" he asks softly, checking in with Henry.

Henry's grin grows, still dopey but all for Chris. "Oh bloody hell yes," he groans. "I may become an addict."

"Oh, now there's something you shouldn't admit to," Chris teases. "I might become addicted to marking you."

"Okay," Henry murmurs, tugging on his hand, bringing him closer. "I'm okay with that."

"I suspect that's the endorphins speaking," Chris murmurs back but he leans in and kisses Henry. "But we'll talk about it more later and after it heals."

"Whatever you say, Sir," Henry murmurs, adoration in his eyes as he stares at Chris.

"Yeah? Dinner at Le Papillon tonight?" Chris grins, enjoying the hell of out Henry's reactions.

Henry's brow draws up and he looks at Chris with a pout. "I thought you were proud of me," he says through the fuzzy blanket of headspace.

Jane tries not to laugh. She really does, and fails miserably. "I'm sorry," she says softly, ducking her head. "He's just so cute."

"Yes, he is, and I am," Chris reassures Henry. "Which is why I'll take you for a steak the size of your head."

Henry languidly throws one arm up in a half-victory gesture, careful to keep his hips very still. He pouts again--this time playfully--at Jane. "I hate pretentious dining," he says, wrinkling his nose.

"Me too," she says with a smile. "And we're all done." She sits back, gently releasing his cock. "Take a look."

Pushing up onto his elbow, Henry gazes down at the dark and very permanent mark wrapped like a lover around his cock. Chris's mark. He groans, his cock filling with surprising speed.

"I think he likes it," Chris quips then chuckles. "It looks amazing, doesn't it?" he says to Henry, giving Jane a nod of appreciation.

"It's..." Henry lifts his eyes from the signature on his body to Chris's eyes, swallowing hard. "It's incredible," he whispers. "It's you. On me. Forever."

Chris nods, too overcome for a moment for words but then he kisses Henry and thanks Jane who quickly spreads some ointment and a small bandage over the newly inked design - "you can take it off tomorrow" - and hands them a care sheet. "I've got another client in ten," she says, "but I'll use the other room. Just leave the door open when you're done."

Henry sits up, thanking Jane again as she leaves them. He smiles at Chris and reaches for his trousers, draped on a chair nearby. He can't really see it under the simple wrap anymore, and his buzz is quickly fading.

"What do you want to do now?" Chris asks, making sure he's got everything and that he stays close just in case. "Are you tired? Do you want to grab a nap?"

"No, not remotely tired. Don't you want to use your boy? I know I can't come. No touch to my cock. I don't care. Don't you want to hurt me?"

"Yeah, of course I do," Chris says. "I was trying to be considerate." He laughs. "But I'd rather lay claim to my boy," he adds, pulling Henry in for a kiss. "Forget the trousers. You won't be in them long anyway."

There's that buzz again. Henry beams at Chris, throwing the trousers over his shoulder and nuzzling against his throat. "Bloody... fuck you smell good," he moans, his cock hard and suddenly leaking against Chris's hip.

"Mm-hm?" Damn. Well, they have the room for a little longer. "Knees, boy," Chris orders, his cock filling instantly.

"Thank you, Sir," Henry murmurs in gratitude, dropping to his knees, position carefully perfect.

Chris widens his stance and cups the back of Henry's head, pulling his face in against his groin, against his cock through the denim. "Give me your mouth."

The groan from Henry is like the sound of a starving man put in front of a banquet. He mouths at Chris's hard cock, tasting cotton and dryer sheet as he works at the fly with eager fingers. His mouth waters at the scent of his cock as he works him out, opening his mouth around him and taking him to the base with a single swallow.

The sound that spills from Chris is pure animal, his cock swelling to full hardness in Henry's throat. "Yeah, god, yeah," he urges, praises, cupping Henry's head in his palms.

Henry moans around him, practically a whine, his hunger is so strong. He shudders, slamming down into subspace with the grip Chris has on him. He spreads his legs wider, braces himself for whatever comes next, hoping Chris will use him the way he longs to be used.

Sensing the shift, the bracing, Chris pulls back, right to the tip, and then slams all the way in again. Repeats the movement, his thrusts gaining momentum as he thoroughly fucks his boy's throat, focused solely on taking _his_ own pleasure.

Even being prepared doesn't help with the first slam home. Henry almost-- _almost_ \--loses his balance but he quickly recovers, quickly adjusts, tilting his head back to take more, to open himself up as a receptacle for Chris's ferocity. Tears streaming, breath caught in harsh, grateful gasps when he can get them, Henry floats in the beauty that is his lover exercising his rights.

It feels incredible. Simply _taking_. It spurs and spikes Chris's arousal so hard he can barely breathe himself, something dark inside him thrilling at the sight of Henry's tears. At making a /mess/ out of his boy.

Lifting his eyes, Henry watches a wild radiance rise in Chris's eyes. It's thrilling, and the tiniest bit frightening, but there's steel control behind the fierceness and that's just as exciting as the rest of it. He can't breathe anymore, the strokes coming too fast, but he doesn't care. He'll pass out if it means Chris will get off.

A soft stuttered curse and Chris comes with a roar, muscles seizing tight, hands holding Henry in place as he pumps hot thick seed down his boy's throat.

Henry can still feel the burn and bite of the tattoo gun, still feels the emotional impact of what it means to be marked. His cock is hot and heavy, dripping. The tears are still flowing, and he still can't breathe. It's amazing. It's humbling. A whimper tries to escape but it's muffled by Chris's impressive length.

Chris eases out, finally relaxing his grip on Henry's skull. "Stay like that," he orders, pulling his phone from his pocket and snapping a picture. His boy on his knees, lips swollen, face tear-streaked, faint lines of come at the corners of his mouth and below, his aching cock, hard and leaking, the bandage clear as day. Beautiful. "Good boy." He crouches down in front of Henry and kisses him, wiping the tears from his skin with his thumb.

Henry smiles through the haze, leaning into that touch like he's been starving for it. His throat aches, his lungs still burn, but he's happier than he's been in a very, very long time.


End file.
